Twas the night before cease-fire
by EnderGirl
Summary: This year for Christmas, Engineer has forced the team to partake in a "secret santa." Who had who? What did they get each other? WARNING: Contains high-levels of intense adorableness.


**A/N: Allright, here it is. My secret project. I was gonna wait to post this on Christmas Eve, but I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF, OKAY? I hope you all have a very merry Christmas and I love every single one of you beautiful people. Every favorite, follow, & review is appreciated as always. **

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"Zere's no ornaments on ze back!" an outraged cry came from behind Scout. He covered his face with his wrapped hands and took a deep breath. He knew it was a bad idea to let the borderline OCD doctor help him with the tree. "Zis is nichts gut," Medic began to ramble, tugging furiously at his sideburns.

"Why would we put ornaments on th' back?" Sniper asked him, genuinely confused. "No one will see it!" If looks could kill, Sniper would have been face down in his own blood. Medic's nostrils flared and he looked away from the tree as if the sight of it physically hurt him.

"Doc, why don't ya go help Pahro with the lights? Go make sure he doesn't hurt himself," Engie came up and placed his gloved hand on the doctor's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. Medic straightened himself up and went in search of Pyro without another word.

"Thanks, hardhat. I dunno if I could've taken anotha minute wit dat guy," Scout briefly glanced up to make sure Medic was out of earshot.

"Be nice," Engie warned him, but there was a twinkle of humor behind his goggles.

It was Christmas Eve, and a cease-fire had been called for the holidays. Everyone was in a better mood, and Scout allowed himself to smile at the friendliness of his team. Pride surged in him briefly at the people he had come to know as family, but his emotion shattered like the ornament Demo had dropped. _Again_.

"Sorry, laddies. M'bad." He stumbled a bit and kicked the shards out from under his feet into an ever-growing collection of smashed ornaments.

"Remind me again why we put the guy with the worst depth-perception on ornament duty?" Scout called to no one in particular. Pyro and Soldier were in charge of untangling the lights, Heavy was hauling boxes of decorations out of the attic, Engie was trying to fix the power outlet that went to the tree, Scout, Demo, and Sniper were decorating the tree, and Spy was standing in a corner. Smoking. When asked what he was doing, he would simply reply,

"Supervising."

No one questioned him further.

The team worked late into the night, until the whole base felt cheerful and Christmas-y. Scout didn't realize how tired he was until he yawned and it nearly took him off his feet.

"I second that emotion," Engie barely got out before a yawn overtook him as well. The mercs filed into their respective rooms and promptly fell asleep, waiting for Santa.

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"Mrmph, mmph, mrrrrrr!" An excited voice yelled outside Scout's door. His eyes snapped open and giddiness filled him as he realized it was Christmas. Still in his pajamas, he flung open the door and was greeted with a hug that brought him to the floor. He felt like he was being hugged by a rubber band ball, and he realized it was just Pyro. Pyro was talking so fast Scout didn't have time to try and decipher what he was saying. He knew it was something about Christmas because that's the only word Scout could hear. They both raced out of Scout's room and saw nine presents in various shapes lying under the lopsided tree. The rest of the men slowly filtered into the common room, grumbling about coffee and loud kids.

"My God, you guys are so old! Don't you know it's freakin' Christmas! We got presents ta open!" Scout was dashing around the room, unabashed by his obvious child-like glee.

"Allroight, allroight, let's get to it, then." Sniper felt a smile on his face as he watched Scout leaping about. This year, Engineer had forced them all to do a 'secret Santa'. The mercs protested at first, but soon warmed up to the idea, much to Engie's surprise. They had actually complied and taken a piece of paper with their assigned teammate and had a week to get a present.

Scout flopped down in the floor in front of the presents and began passing them out jerkily while the rest of the team sat on the floor as well with their coffee and tired eyes. When everyone's presents had been passed out, Scout looked around the circle with a toothy grin.

"Okay, guess I'll go first! Who had me?" he swiveled his gaze expectantly around the small group and Engie held up his hand, smiling good naturedly at Scout. "Allright, go hardhat!" Scout cheered and tore into his present like a madman, wrapping paper flying in every direction. Scout frowned as he held up his present. "Dis is just my Sandman," he said perplexed, turning it over and over in his hands. He was about to open his mouth again when he saw some scribbled writing on at the base of it. It read:

**Merry Christmas, Scoot. **** –****Cy Young **

Scout screeched and clutched the bat to his chest, locking eyes with the Engineer. "H-how did you get this?" he made a wheezing noise that in any other situation would have been alarming. The group chuckled at Scout's excitement and Engie had a huge grin on his face.

"A few weeks ago I sent your bat back to Boston with a letter explaining who you were and who I was, with a request for him to sign it. Simple." Scout just continued to stare at the bat with shaking hands.

"C-Cy Young…t-touched my baseball bat…" he stammered, not daring to take his eyes from the message.

"Awright, awright, my turn," Sniper said as he drained the last of his coffee and cleared his throat, searching for his present. He found it and read the tag; it was from Soldier. Sniper gave him a small, worried smile and opened the crudely wrapped present. Everyone was eager to see what Solly had gotten him and they crowded around as he struggled with the insane amount of tape that covered it. When he gotten it unwrapped, it was a medal that Soldier had obviously made himself. Scrawled on it in messy writing said: "_I pee in jars_."

It was quite touching, actually. "Awh, Solly! You didn't have ta," Sniper said and slipped the medal around his neck.

"Don't mention it, private. You earned it." Soldier gave him a small salute and turned his attention to the presents. "I would like to formally request my turn, now." He spotted his present after some difficulty; it was from Scout. He opened it and everyone saw it was flat, almost like a piece of paper. Scout had drawn a picture of soldier standing over the very bloody and detailed body of Hitler, saluting the American flag with an impossible amount of war medals hanging from his neck. Soldier was very quiet for a moment, then lowered the picture and turned to Scout. "Son, if I hadn't carved my own tear ducts out with a K-bar in first grade, I would cry. Thank you, private."

"No problem," Scout said, blushing slightly and fiddling with his bat.

"My turn, I b'lieve," Demo said as Sniper handed him his present. Demo took his time opening it and when he did a look of pure delight crossed his face. "Aye, thank ye!" he nudged Sniper with his elbow and Sniper just grinned. Demo turned the present around to show the group. It was an eye patch, but the patch part was shaped like a sticky bomb and colored appropriately. Demo slid his current one off and tied the new one around his head, grinning from ear to ear. After everyone thoroughly admired it, Demo nodded at Spy and kicked a present with his foot. Spy bent down to retrieve it and gave a curt nod to Demo. It was a semi-large box with a lid, and Spy opened it slowly, squinting at what was inside.

"Ah, _merci, mon ami_!" Spy proclaimed, holding up a small slip of paper. It was a yearly subscription to Dapper Cadaver, Spy's favorite magazine. The rest of the box was filled with loose cigarettes, substituting for tissue paper.

"Well, other'an smokes, suits, and Scout's mom, we dunnae kno what yoo like," Demo said, a mischevious glint in his eye. Scout opened his mouth to retort, but one look from Heavy silenced him. Fuming, Scout crossed him arms and pouted like a toddler.

"Ah, well, here Pyro," Spy said a bit awkwardly and handed Pyro a very small box. Pyro took it gleefully and opened it, revealing a simple box of matches. Engie thought about reprimanding Spy for getting him such a thoughtless gift, but there was a muffled squeal from inside the suit and in the blink of an eye, Pyro had wrapped Spy in a rib-crushing hug. Spy just stood and allowed himself to be hugged, not daring to meet the eyes of anyone in the circle. Engie figured this was punishment enough. When Pyro finally finished nuzzling Spy, he opened the box of matches and stuck one, the flame illuminating the eyeholes of his mask.

"Allright, y'all. I fancy openin' mine now." The toymaker smiled at the group and picked up his large present, hefting it into his lap. It was from Heavy. The large Russian sat back and watched Engie tear the wrapping paper off of the present. He gave a small gasp and held up a box of unopened, shiny, pristine drill bits. Engie smacked the top of his hardhat and turned to Heavy, unable to anything but grin stupidly at him. "Hey, thanks, partner!" Engie 'yee-hawed' and opened the box, carefully fingering the contents.

"Heavy's turn," the bear announced, grunting as he lifted his present off of the floor. "Is from doktor," he smiled at the man on the couch beside him and Medic offered a smile back. Scout opened his mouth to make an obvious joke but shut it. There was no need for a fight this early in the day. Heavy delicately pulled the red bow off of the perfectly wrapped present and tore into it, making Medic wince a bit. It was a large, old book that was of no significance any of the other mercs, but it made Heavy laugh tremendously and clap Medic on the back, causing the smaller man to lurch forward on the couch and laugh painfully with him.

"What is it?" Scout asked, straining to see the worn cover of the book.

"Is 1820s copy of_Pride and Prejudice_!" Heavy announced, cradling the book like a baby. It was a known fact that Heavy enjoyed reading and writing, but it was still a small shock to the rest of the group the man was so excited about the book.

"Lame," Scout muttered under his breath, rubbing his thumb over Cy Young's signature again. Heavy was engrossed in the first page of his book already and Medic cleared his throat, gathering everyone's attention.

"I believe I'm ze last vone." He said, and reached for the single remaining present, a huge box that was too large to fit under the tree. "It is from…Herr Pyro!" Medic said and he smiled at Pyro, but his smile quickly disappeared as his finger slipped into a small hole in the side of the box.

"Rrrprn rrrt crrrrrfrrrrllrrrry," Pyro warned and Medic did as he was told, gingerly pulling the lid off the box and peering into its dark contents.

Medic cried out, slapping a hand over his mouth, tears springing into his eyes.

"Doc?" Sniper said, concern filling his voice. Was Medic…_crying_?

"Well, what is it?" Spy said impatiently. The silence in the room was thick and unsettling, and nobody dared to breath, afraid to upset the current fragility of the doctor. Medic reached into the box with shaking hands and agonizingly slowly, he pulled out something that was so small it disappeared in his large hands.

It was a kitten.

The tiniest kitten the men had ever seen in their life, and they all subconsciously shifted forward to get a better look. It was a ball of ginger fluff with dark eyes, and it mewled bravely in the faces of the nine mercenaries.

"Would ya look at that," Engie was the first to speak, his voice filled with wonder. His thoughts were immediately flooded with the consequences; _the Administrator would never let him keep it, it would get squashed underfoot, it would ingest something poisonous in Medic's lab, what if- _all of the sour thoughts dissipated when Medic held up the kitten to his face and whispered,

"Hallo…Aristotle." The kitten squeaked at its name and Medic crushed it to his chest, tears sliding down his face. "D-Danke…Herr Pyro," Medic stuttered. The mercs looked around at one another, then back to the doctor, then down at the floor. No one decided to address the unfamiliar adorableness and tenderness that had touched all of them.

Scout stood and stretched, yawning. "Allright, dis is gettin' too gay for me. What kind of pancakes does everyone want?"


End file.
